[ richie clicks his tongue chidingly, but he's grinning wide over the sound, always delighted when he gets eddie riled up enough to give back just as good as he gets. he might be the trashmouth of the group, but eddie could give him a good run for his money under the right circumstances. it doesn't even matter how long it's been since either have seen the other, they fall back into the pattern of trading words so seamlessly. ]
Oh I would, but I don't want to make your mom jealous.
[ his thoughts run along a variety of closely diverging paths at this revelation about his fretting being put to use in a more official scenario here in deerington. a young, stupid voice in his head feels possessive, wants to hoard eddie's mother-henning tendencies amongst the loser's club exclusively, but he quickly stifles that one because it's honestly embarrassing to acknowledge.
mostly, he's reminded of the fact that this town is dangerous enough to even warrant eddie's skills, which of course sends his mind spiralling down the rabbit hole of the cause for eddie's scars, the fact that he wasn't here to do anything about it.
the danger, that's hardly anything new, and he's not even entirely put out by the existence of an organization that thought it was clever to name itself fear, though its mere existence suggests that unlike derry the people of this town are aware enough of the dangers to actually try and do something about it which is. novel, honestly.
no, it's the fact that they're employing a kid eddie's age, no matter how competent richie knows he is, that has him raising an eyebrow. because that suggests that people in this town actually take kids seriously, and richie isn't entirely sure how to handle that idea. ]
F.E.A.R., huh? What dramatic fuck thought that was a good idea?
[ richie shivers lightly when eddie goes and blows on his hands like a menace, and he stares down quietly at their hands for a long, considering moment before turning his hands palm up and interlacing his newly mended fingers gently with eddie's own. ]
i like that eddie just let richie invent a middle name for him
Oh I would, but I don't want to make your mom jealous.
[ his thoughts run along a variety of closely diverging paths at this revelation about his fretting being put to use in a more official scenario here in deerington. a young, stupid voice in his head feels possessive, wants to hoard eddie's mother-henning tendencies amongst the loser's club exclusively, but he quickly stifles that one because it's honestly embarrassing to acknowledge.
mostly, he's reminded of the fact that this town is dangerous enough to even warrant eddie's skills, which of course sends his mind spiralling down the rabbit hole of the cause for eddie's scars, the fact that he wasn't here to do anything about it.
the danger, that's hardly anything new, and he's not even entirely put out by the existence of an organization that thought it was clever to name itself fear, though its mere existence suggests that unlike derry the people of this town are aware enough of the dangers to actually try and do something about it which is. novel, honestly.
no, it's the fact that they're employing a kid eddie's age, no matter how competent richie knows he is, that has him raising an eyebrow. because that suggests that people in this town actually take kids seriously, and richie isn't entirely sure how to handle that idea. ]
F.E.A.R., huh? What dramatic fuck thought that was a good idea?
[ richie shivers lightly when eddie goes and blows on his hands like a menace, and he stares down quietly at their hands for a long, considering moment before turning his hands palm up and interlacing his newly mended fingers gently with eddie's own. ]
Eddie... how bad has it been? No bullshit.